Ginny's Survey
by laneykin
Summary: This is just a one-shot featuring Bill and Ginny Weasley. It takes place in The Burrow when they're younger. Bill is still in school at the time. Please read and review!


-1_Disclaimer: Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I__'__m not J.K Rowling and neither are you!_

_Hey, this is just something I thought of and decided to write it down!_

Ginny's Survey 

Bill Weasley was on Christmas holidays from his seventh year in Hogwarts. He decided to get his homework out of the way early, so he was upstairs in his bedroom which he shared with his younger brother Charlie. He was sitting at his desk writing a potions essay, Charlie on the other hand was laying on his stomach on his bed flicking through a quidditch magazine.

"Billllll," whined a voice from behind him.

Bill knew it was Ginny, so he didn't bother turning around.

"Whaaaaat?" he asked, mimicking the way she was talking.

"Will you do my survey?" she asked, and walked over to him, looking over his shoulder.

He stopped writing and looked up at her.

"What survey?" he asked.

"This one," she smiled, holding up a sheet of parchment with a load of questions written on it in pink crayon.

"I have to do my homework Ginny; can't you ask Charlie to do it?"

"No," Charlie said, without looking up from his magazine.

"Why not?" Bill demanded.

"Busy," Charlie said simply.

"What?" Bill said, turning around in his chair to look at him. "You're lying there reading a magazine."

"Yeah," Charlie said, still not taking his eyes off the magazine.

"Alright Ginny, I'll do it," Bill said.

"Thanks Billy," Ginny grinned.

"Yeah you're the greatest Billy," Charlie said, sarcastically and rolled his eyes.

"That's it," Bill said, grabbed Charlie's magazine and flung it out the window.

"Hey," Charlie complained, glaring at Bill.

"Go fetch," Bill said.

Charlie rolled his eyes and stomped out of the room. Bill turned around to Ginny who was sitting on his bed waiting for him and Charlie to stop fighting.

"Bill, why do you and Charlie fight so much?" she asked curiously.

"Is that the first question?" Bill asked, sitting down at his desk again.

"No," Ginny said, looking at her survey.

"Alright then, what is the first question?"

"Ok, first question: What's your name?" Ginny said.

"Ginny, you know my name."

"But I still have to ask you the question…"

"Why?" Bill interrupted her.

"Because if I don't ask you the questions then there's no point in doing the survey," Ginny said.

"Ok. Bill."

"Bill what?"

"Weasley," he answered impatiently.

"Good," Ginny said, and leaned on the bed while she wrote down his answer.

"When were you born?"

"September 26th."

"Where were you born?"

"Ginny, if all the questions are going to be ones that you already know the answer to…" Bill began to complain but Ginny cut him off.

"Ok, I'll ask you the ones I don't know the answer to," she said and scanned down through the list. "Do you have any piercings or tattoos?"

Bill thought about that. "Is Mum going to see this?" he asked.

"Maybe."

"Then no."

"Bill, you have to answer truthfully," Ginny complained.

"Gin, do you see any tattoos or piercings on me?" he asked, holding his arms out from his body.

"No…" Ginny said.

Bill grinned widely at her.

"Well then, why would you possibly think that im lying?"

Ginny looked at her brother suspiciously and then smiled, deciding to believe him.

"What's your favourite candy?"

"Chocolate frogs."

"Favourite number?"

"Three."

Ginny continued asking Bill countless amounts of questions, from his favourite drink right down to what his bedtime was.

"Are we nearly finished Ginny?" Bill asked after over half an hour.

"Yep, just one more," Ginny said.

Bill sighed.

"Ok, have you ever gone skinny dipping?" she asked.

"Yeah," Bill said smiling.

"Bill," she said innocently. "What's skinny dipping?"

Bill stared at her. "Ginny, why would you ask me that if you don't even know what it means?"

"Because now you can tell me what it means."

He shrugged. "I don't know what it means."

"Liar, you said that you did it. Is it something bad?"

"I'll tell you in four years," he smiled. "Now shoo."


End file.
